A Kirk and Spock Love Story
by Lisaliene
Summary: Two guys who fit to each other - this is the story of how they got together.
1. Chapter 1

A Kirk and Spock Love Story

will start soon, don't worry, just some things first:

a. It's my first piece

b. I'm German, no native English speaker, I'd love to be, but as I am not, my language lacks perfection.

c. the piece should go on, but:

d. I need some feedback :) so please, comment, I'd be glad.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

It's everyday business and it's usual, it's a professional relationship between first officer and Captain, and it's a a loyal friendship between Kirk and Spock. And of course it's a love affair! It's just so natural the both don't have to boast about it.

Did you really believe the hugs they shared in public were less than a foreplay? That the looks Kirk shot Spock's butt on the bridge were merely saying: "Strange Vulcan, kinda funny, what's for dinner?" That Spock meant to say after the Pon farr incidents on Vulcan, when he was back on the ship and grabbed Kirk's shoulders with his first public smile ever, simply struck by the feeling of gladness that Jim was alive, did you really think the only thing going on in his head was: "It's good that he's alive. Now I gonna check some star data"? You could have known by then latest: In truth they were warm and comforting hugs, consoling and stabilizing, their looks were saying: I wanna grab that apple tush. And Spock's grip was saying: I don't want to be without you.

Both of them are used to pursue thoroughly what irritates them, they deserve their posts on the Federations flag ship because they do everything to completely clear all questions. They aren't satisfied with a superstitious answer. Once there interest is caught they find out about their subject of interest for good. And they did catch each others interest. Who after all would be more interesting than the next in the line of command, a man equal to the other in knowledge and sharpness, in curiosity and determination? It was overdue that they pursued each other thoroughly. Bones told Jim to do it again and again.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim was used to having Bones around him all the time, they shared meals, shuttles and drunken nights, had adjoined rooms on the ship and on whichever space station they stayed. He knew everything there was to know about the doctor - which was nothing extraordinary by the way, Leonard McCoy was a studious man with a lot of temper and a lot of passion for saving lives. What was more important was the fact that the doctor knew Jim as well as Jim knew him. Bones knew nearly everything that went on in Jim's head. And his stomach, often enough, as Jim had the tendency to drink too much or eat too much or poison himself or anything alike that might cause him to throw up in front of the doctor, who would then fix him up again of course.  
Sometimes Bones wondered whether this was the true reason for their friendship, but it wasn't, it was just a very happy incident for Jim. He could rely on Bones come hell or high water, and he never felt uncomfortable around Bones. His secrets were save with Bones, he had always been there for him and never judged him. Jim trusted him with his life, there was no better friend than Bones. At least that's Jim guessed, and he never worried

Still he never had wanted to grab his butt - ever.

Why would he want to grab Spock's butt then?

He couldn't help it. His gaze searched the bridge, looking at tactical and steering, checking communications shorty - Uhura was still irritatingly good looking and fierce at the same time - wandered over to mechanics and science station, finally. But then his look wandered on to the screen, to linger there with pictures of a naked man's butt in his mind remaining, his hands on it. A firm, well shaped butt that was formed with muscles in aesthetic forms, like an apple, and each of his hands grabbed one side of that apple to squeeze it, to pull it in on him, to knead it...

How many orders he had given with these uncontrollable pictures at the back of his mind he didn't know, neither how many minutes he had sat in the command chair staring at that black screen picturing that Vulcan upon him, touching and kissing him.

Acting upon his urge was out of the question, naturally. For so many reasons. Spock did - Jim knew that without asking - not reciprocate the feeling. He did not reciprocate any feeling, so Jim didn't need to feel let down about it. It wasn't personal. His heart bursted anyway when he saw Spock kiss that blonde, blue eyed girl on Omicron Ceti III. She was totally naive, like a cute but dull puppy, way below Spock's sophisticated wits; even if he hadn't longed to kiss Spock himself Jim would have been angry about it. To punch him afterwards hadn't even been that hard therefore, although Spock's "feelings" were caused by a drug spread through a flower of course. Some weeks later Jim asked him about it and was really relieved with Spock's answer. They were sitting in Jim's quarters after the weekly round up on Ship's need and mission check up. Hardly anything was known about Vulcan match making, so Jim asked him bluntly: "Spock, I want to ask you something else. What is on my mind for a while, what's puzzling me: That girl on Omicron Ceti III, why didn't you have a relationship with her? Vulcans take wives, too? Now, I don't know whether your folk marries for love, but anyway, what was it with her?"

Spock had tilted his head like he always did when he considered something. Jim pushed away the feeling of warmth and comfort the familiarity gave him and focused his eyes on the brown ones in front of him. "Vulcans form a strong bond with their spouse which could be compared to your human feelings. However I have an attachment with Leila, it was never enough to share my life with her. We were on the academy together and have common memories based on experiences made during training. Besides that she has -" he raised his eyebrows, tilted his head on the other side and shrugged one shoulder - "nothing of interest to me." Spock's eyes met Jim's. "When I think back to this episode, I mainly remember the fact of me neglecting my duties and my loss of control. I did not act on my free will."

The look continued for a silent moment.

Jim nodded. "No, you did not, and that is a bad basis for a relationship. No basis at all. So these emotions you underwent, they were only caused by the spores, right?" In one movement, Spock closed his eyes and nodded once. "Nothing else." "Interesting," Jim answered, then changed his tone into smalltalk. "But now I will not intrude your privacy any further, you certainly wanna go on with your work and I will finish these reports, so I guess I will see you on the bridge tomorrow?" Jim said with a polite smile. "On day shift after the meeting with the staff in engineering," Spock affirmed. He stood up with Jim and walked to the door, his hands folded in front of his chest. Outside he turned and faced Kirk again. "I hope you were not wondering whether such a fall out could happen to me again." Jim leaned in the door each hand on one side of the frame. With a smile he answered: "No, I was just checking if you're okay" and twinkled. Satisfied, Spock said "Good night, Jim."

And satisfied, Jim went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

So good to wake up beside him.

He was hotter than Jim - talking strictly about body temperature, in terms of sexual attractiveness they were at least on the same level of course. Jim loved it warm. He pushed the tip of his nose on the back in front of him and trailed it a bit up once or twice. Warm. And greenish.

Greenish for the green blood in his veins, green blood for being a Vulcan, being a Vulcan working on his ship as science officer, a science officer he had longed for so long, who after this long time was finally lying next to him naked -

The whole chain of awesome truth made Jim grin so much he actually chuckled.

"Jim, what is it that amuses you right after waking up?" a deep, sonorous voice asked him and made his belly tremble. Spock rolled over to face him.

"Spock, you're beautiful beyond believes, do you know that?"

"This is no accurate answer to my question" Spock retorted rather matter-of-factly. How he could be neutral after that night Jim could not imagine, but he liked it. It was miraculous like the whole man. Miraculous and familiar all in one, for he had watched Spock so long and worked with him so closely for these last years that everything seemed familiar, his neutrality and objectivity which were there constantly and which were still able to suprise him anew. And he liked that, too.

The smile still on his face Jim kissed him and held it; just four lips pressed against each other, Jim took it all in, Spock's breath against his nostrils, the heat evaporating from him, the tense lips, the tension between them, the sound of their breath in his ears. It was set to be a nice warm kiss but when their lips met something happened. Jim couldn't control it, he had not expected it, he just had wanted to give Spock one good kiss. Now the feeling soaked him up. Hot blood was pumping through his veins, rose to double speed, made his heart race, his face glow, his hands sweat till his breath stopped. For a moment. Then he broke the kiss.

He withdrew slowly, very slowly. Only the lips parted at first, their faces not moving. Two or three breaths later Jim moved his head back slightly, only inches really. Still close enough to feel the warmth of Spock's nose on his own. Looking up, he found he could still count Spock's lashes.

"I could not put this differently. It is your answer."


	5. Chapter 5

Could he ever tell him?

He had to make up his mind about that. Thinking about it on and off made him crazy, to daydream about Spock when nothing was to do on the bridge only to stop himself again shortly afterwards to tell himself that it was never going to happen.

Either way he decided would be okay, even if he had to live with the fact that he could _not _ever tell Spock. Then he still would be around him for at least three years, could enjoy their conversations and chess games, could rely on him as friend and Captain and do whatever possible to make Spock happy - or something Vulcan-ish happy, whatever that might be, content or something. He could take care that he was fine, yes, that he could do. Wouldn't be too bad, would it?

Jim felt something in him dying at the thought of it.

Or he could take the big leap: tell Spock that he was crazy about him and wanted to live exactly the way they did already with a little extra sex. A lot extra sex actually, but talking about a little seemed scary enough for a start.

With this thought came the picture of a very raised eyebrow. He could easily figure out what Spock might say to his declaration of love: "Captain, I recognize the honor your disclosure, however I do not reciprocate the feeling and wish to leave now. You will find my application for a transfer in your files tomorrow."

Yes.

That was the point were Jim regularly got stuck in his thoughts. Bones was no help, either.

"Jim, you can't just tug away your feelings and go on pretending you didn't love him!"

The doctor had repeated this sentence so often he was on the edge of shouting it today.


	6. Chapter 6

Jim had wandered over to sick bay and sat on one of the black beds now, watching Bones doing - what was he doing actually?

"What are you even doing there?" Jim asked, rather happy to leave the centre of attention for a moment. The doctor was mashing something in one of his test tubes. He did that with a vehemence that likely could shatter the glass. Good he was a doctor.

"Working on an immunization for settlers on a planet called Kaurion. While Vulcans and Andorians can easily live there, humans get a rash and shortness of breath that both increase with time when they enter the planet. It was described in a medical weekly for Starfleet doctors and I requested a biological sample of the most common plants and earth on the planet. it gives me something to do between curing a cold and healing the bruises you get yourself in hand-to-hand combat with aliens. Don't change the subject, you have to do something about Spock, I don't want to hear that again and again for the next three years."

Now the doctor had changed the subject so smoothly Jim nearly hadn't noticed it. His face darkened.

"Bones, we've been there, I cannot risk to loose Spock, neither as friend nor as secret love nor as officer. I don't want to."

"Maybe you don't loose him, maybe he's in love with you, too," Bones answered but Kirk interrupted him: "Bones, have you ever seen Spock love anybody?"

"No, but I neither haven't seen that greenblood like anybody or smile or anything alike. If you can fall in love with him, why shouldn't he fall in love with you? Though I still cannot understand why you want that Vulcan or any other man when you have those gorgeous women around you. Have you taken a look at Uhura lately, Jim? She's hot and she is exactly the kind of girl you'd have gone crazy for before Spock. Determined, good looking, smart and bold. Why you fell for Spock is beyond me, and things would be a lot easier if they were were beyond you, too."

Bones had finished mashing the Kaurion earth and put the glass in a heating box, meddling on the buttons now.

Jim knit his brows. "Talking about women, where is Chapel?"

"Attending to a pregnant on Deck seven. The girl still has two months but she requested a birth preparation, mainly answers to questions about the birth, so I send Chapel. I felt she would be more comfortable talking about the juicy details with a woman. Don't worry I wouldn't let you pour your heart out when she was in the next room hearing everything." He winked at him with the first smile Kirk got from the doctor since a while. Jim took it with relief and smiled back.

Bones was finished with the box and gave it a clap on the top.

"This has to ferment eighteen hours before I can work on it again. Care for a drink, Jim?"

But Jim refused: "Nah, I gotta go to the bridge, relief Spock." Then he hopped to his feet and went to the door, with Bones accompanying him for the last steps. When he spoke to him he layed one hand on Jim's shoulder before he let him pass to the corridor.

"Okay then, but Jim you gotta do something about that. You cannot eat up your feelings for ever and ever. You're not a Vulcan."

* * *

Thanks MirrorFlower and DarkWind, you're basically the reason I'm still typing, thanks titania took!

Okay. So far. I have a nice idea where this is going. And I won't tell you.

:D

No honestly I need some help from you.

I really need a Beta.

It just came to me that I might make grammatical errors with what Spock is saying.

Grammer errors would be devastating anyway, cause I love language and I'm a geek with my own, but with Spock's words - errors?

You see what I mean?

No Go!

So I need a Beta.

Yes, I do!

Anybody?


	7. Chapter 7

Walking up to the bridge never lost its appeal of might and force to Jim.  
When he left sickbay his head was bowed and heavy with his petty little dilemma, but soon day's work came to his mind, stockpiles and repairs, a conference with Captain Sidec about the sector the Enterprise was ordered to, and reports about the working order of his ship, his beloved ship.  
When the turbolift's doors slid open Jim Kirk was his smug self again. The ship's central lay before him with controls to every detail from life support to torpedos to the ship's library to speed and sensors. Everything needed to steer this metal giant through space for five years could be toggled from here and Jim's assigned working place was the black swivelling chair in the middle of the room.

He loved this chair and everything it represented, come hell or high water.

Spock jumped to his feet when Jim arrived, leaving the chair to his captain in which he had sat cross legged and slenderly leaning against one corner of the chair. Taking the sight of the elegant Vulcan as a nice extra to an already good start on the bridge, Jim thanked him with a twinkle and occupied the chair himself. Yeoman Rand handed him two pads with reports while Spock recounted the facts of matter.  
"Storage on C Deck must be refilled during the next twenty-one days, medical supplies have been ordered from Starfleet and are to be transmitted on a rendevouz with the transporter Kjiorkor in 80 hours, one request for a transfer has been handed in by midshipman Rutter who applies for a post on the U.S.S. Saratoga, enginges and ship is in working order, Captain Sidec will confere with you at 1300 hours" Spock concluded his report. Jim gazed over the reports from Rand and asked: "The transporter we meet, Krokjor, it isn't a federation starship?" "The transporter Kjiorkor is indeed a tellarite spaceship in behalf of the federation." Jim found the name of the transporter on the pad and read it thoroughly. "Kjiorkor, right," he pronounced carefully, "Tellarite Captain Jaral; manners which appear rude to humans; well, a transmission of medical supplies should not need too much diplomatic exchange, this should run smoothly. Why does midshipman Rutter ask for a transfer?" "Marriage, Captain, obviously her fiancee works on the Saratoga. A replacement will be sent by headquarters and may enter the ship when storage on C Deck is refilled." Spock had his hands folded behind his back and eyed Jim with raised eyebrows. Jim signed the request and handed it back to Rand, who then disappeared into nowhere again. He had no idea where she went when she was not standing behind him, but as all his orders and tasks for her were executed promptly and correctly, he didn't mind.

He didn't mind anything if he could gaze at Spock when he did his reports.

Work was fine. The Saratoga had just finished analyzing sector 7B of space region Epsilon h where the Enterprise was headed for an evaluation of the common lifeform in that section. Saratoga's biological research on the planets resulted in the finding of humanoids on one planet and gave the necessary information on arial and natural conditions for humans to enter the planets. The two ships arranged a redevouz point for the exchange of biochemical samples and the transmission of the midshipman Rutters. When he concluded the talk with Sidec, Rand (pop in) handed him a work report from her supervisor which he skimmed through and had sent to his quarters with the rest of the daily paper work (Rand pop out). For a moment there was nothing to do. Jim started to wonder whether he should do his paperwork right now only to wonder immediately why he never did this anyway when the answer came to him in form of a call of Lieutenant Uhura who announced a call from Starfleet Headquarters about the next mission. Yes, this was the reason he never did his paperwork on the bridge. There was always a disturbance, something to do, a crisis to solve, a call to answer, a decision to make. So paper work had to be done in his actual free time, which probably was the reason he had no private life what so ever. At least now he had a new argument why he couldn't tell Spock about his feelings, in case the topic would come up with Bones again which it most certainly would. However, first he had to answer this call and as it was a mission briefing he did so in a seperate room off limits to the rest of the crew but let his first officer accompany him, because it was a mission briefing.

In a corner of his mind he wanted to enjoy the brief moment alone with Spock in the elevator that took them to one of the spare rooms with a long table, several chairs and a speakerphone on the middle of the table. The rest of his mind concentrated on the task. The mixture of thoughts resulted in Jim asking himself who a captain should procreate after all, which was a question suitable for a living computer and as he had some time to fill, he asked Spock: "How many active Star Fleet Captains are married and of them how many did encounter their mate while on duty?" Yet this new attempt to puzzle Spock and trigger a kind of emotional response failed: "I am forced to say that I cannot provide this information. Personal information about Star Fleet personell is neither my work field nor my interest Captain. Most certainly the information could be obtained by a query of the computer data banks. Shall I order Yeoman Rand to fulfill the task?" Jim couldn't suppress a smile but answered matter-of-factely: "No, thank you I just wondered how midshipman Rutters managed to find the time to get engaged, that's all." He looked to Spock: "It was an attempt to initiate small talk." At this Spock turned to him. He was a little bigger than Jim and had to lower his eyes a bit to meet Jim's. He opened his mouth.  
"I see."  
A possibly longer response was cut off by the brakes of the elevator and they both emerged the cabin.

What should I tell you, when Jim finally left the bridge that night to go back to his quarters, he felt exhausted and tired. Work was waiting for him, so he took a shower and went back to his desk. The thought of Spock had been replaced with thoughts about work during the conference with the Headquarter. When he arrived at his quarters, he thought about the briefing. The mission was routine: Watch the humanoids and decide whether they are developed far enough to establish a first contact, then contact Headquarters again. Still, details had to be covered on how to collect enough data to adapt the universal translators to their language for example, but also on how to watch the humanoids and what to do in case there is contact etc. After the mission briefing, Spock had withdrawn to his quarters to rest and Jim had returned to the bridge. Then it was a relief that Spock wasn't there. Even though work absorbed him, it was easier to let him be absorbed when he didn't have to push away the thoughts about Spock. Of course they reappeared on his way to the shower. He remembered Spock's answer to his "how many captains are married" question with amusement. It had been on the point, precise, clear and logical like everything Spock said. It was exactely the reason he felt so attracted to Spock.

His promptness in answering him, his earnestness, his one hundred percent attention. Spock was never sloppy. He was always reliable and trustworthy. There were no suprises with Spock. Spock aws the kind of unwavering stability Jim never had growing up. Still, it was never boring with him either, as Spock's perfectance always triggered Jim to try harder and to exceed his own expectations of himself. In a way, Spock was the opposite of Jim. To work with him surely made Jim a better Captain than he usually would have been. The thought of Spock put a smile on his face. It was a satisfied and happy smile resonating Jim's feelings at the very moment. The sweet indulgence was the same he could celebrate every day, even if he had seen Spock only for a moment. He wouldn't want to miss it for anything. And there it was, the reason why Jim could never ever tell Spock about his feelings. With his hopes down, Jim undressed and entered the shower cabin.


	8. Chapter 8

Truth hit him with the first drops of water.

This was utter bullshit. What on earth was he thinking? With his eyes wide open Jim watched the water running down the shower wall in front of him. Never to tell Spock about his feelings would mean that he had to see that treat of a man every day without being able to touch him for the next years!

Years!

He grimaced in agony.

He had to work with him every day. Meeting Spock already caused him hours of suffering! How would that turn out in a month, a year or even two? How could he possibly stand that? How could anybody? He shook his head vigorously, sending splashes of water flying around.

They couldn't, that was the whole point Bones had been pestering him with for months. He was right then.

Yuck. Admitting this would be a pain in the ass. He spit out the water that had dripped into his mouth. Maybe he just shouldn't tell him. Anyway, Jim realized two things then and there in the hot, vapourous cabin.

First, he wouldn't stand it. He needed to tell Spock, otherwise it would eat him all up inside. He wouldn't stand to watch his slender moves on the bridge, to have him in his quarters for briefings, to smell him when they were standing near each other analyzing data on a small screen, shoulder to shoulder, his face so near, the brown eyes meeting his when they agreed. Even worse, he would go nuts when he saw Spock in a combat on a foreign planet, or - beware - get hurt without being able to at least hold his hand.

Jim's hands lay on the wall at the height of his shoulders, legs apart like for a press-up, the water running down his body with a constant swooshing noise. All tense, he pushed against the shower's wall.

As much as Jim Kirk was a man of action more than theory, he also was impatient and of low endurance. Heck, who was he kidding? Yes, he enjoyed Spock's presence any way he could get it, and yes, it was satisfying to meet him for work. But only because he missed him so much when they were apart! The joy of Spock's presence did nothing less than feeding Jim's yearning to have more of this pointy-ear beauty.

The second thing that came to his mind was even more compelling: he wanted to tell Spock.

His muscles tensed even harder.

He wanted to see his reaction, to know for sure whether Spock did or did not feel attracted to him, too.

His neck was firm, his shoulders squared, his ass tense, the whole body was vibrating. Enjoying the exercise, he pressed harder against the wall as if he could break through the wall of uncertainty by sheer force.

It was only logical that Jim wanted to experience it. Honestly, you don't become Captain of a star ship if you're content with thinking about stuff (and most certainly not Captain of the Federation's flag ship, the pride of the fleet, this shimmery metal giant with state of the art technology and a crew consisting of the best of the best. Gosh, he loved this ship). No, Jim Kirk would have to confront himself with Spock. Deep down he had known forever. Time hadn't been ripe then, but time was ripe now.

He felt the blood rushing to his head. Every muscle from neck to leg was firm. He let out a suppressed scream of exhaustion, breathing heavily afterwards.

Initially, it hadn't been that bad; the love for his first officer developed slowly and with it came a lot of confusion. Neither had Jim felt so attracted to a man ever before, nor was it an appropriate situation for a superior officer, nor had Jim Kirk ever been in love properly. There had been flings with a couple of rather cute ladies who were fun to be with and caused a warm, pleasant feeling when Jim spent time with them. But for none of them had he ever felt this urge, this longing, never had he spent more than a few hours of thought on them or, for that matter, showers. With two, three strong brushes, he ran his hands over his eyes and face and cleared them from water. Spinning the lever of the shower, he turned the heat up an inch. Immediately the water became hotter, so hot he could hardly stand it, but it also relaxed his muscles, and him.

If he didn't leave the shower soon, his back would probably go numb, or his skin would peel off, or something else happened that would make him need a doctor. On the other hand, this was usually very entertaining, so maybe he should visit the doctor anyway. And he should finish his paperwork that sat on his desk. AND he should arrange his emotions. He really should, this was already driving him crazy and he still had two more years of mission with Spock as number one. But first, he turned the shower to icecold.

So he would. He would find a way to admit his love to Spock. The novelty of his feelings had blocked him long enough, these last months he had been paralyzed with anguish and giddiness. Like a pimpled teenager. Waiting hadn't change a thing. His emotions for Spock were real, they didn't vanish but grew. Nothing changed that, neither the fact that he was a man, nor one of his officers, nor the fact that he was a completely unemotional Vulcan. They were a fact, so he could as well accept them. Acting upon them was a completely different question of course. He needed to figure out how he should engross Spock in a conversation that ended with the words: "I am in love with you and I want to be with you."

He shuddered and turned the shower off. Outside, he threw a towel around himself and rubbed himself dry until he felt cosy again. Meanwhile, he repeated that last sentence over and over again.

I am in love with Spock and I want to be with him.

Hum. That sounded good in his head. He could say that. He ended up in front of the mirror, fixated his own eyes and recalled Spock's image. His brown eyes, perfect black shimmering hair with elegant pointed ears. With delight he remembered Spock's typical pose for intense listening: eyebrows slightly raised, head tilted softly to the right, perfect calm without any movements. and thought of Spock's clam brown eyes when he said aloud:

"Spock, I am in love with you and I want to be with you."

He was shocked to hear his feelings so properly announced. After some silent moments, he felt relieved.

It worked. Neither did it sound kitschy nor overdramatic. He could and should say that. Relaxed, he exhaled and smiled. Now he had a goal.

He would tell Spock he was in love with him.

Once his mind was made up, he felt better indeed. He had no idea how to reach his aim, however, that was an important first step. Actually he felt light hearted for the first time since he first recorgnized that the strange dizziness that came upon him when he talked to Spock was an actual urge to kiss him. He dressed and went to his desk to work. Three hours later he exited his quarters for McCoy. They had dinner and a drink. Spock was no topic for a change, maybe the good doctor felt that he had pressed Jim enough these last days, maybe he was simply happy to see Jim relaxed, maybe other things occupied his mind. However, they just had a nice evening, chit-chatted about crew members, talked about work and laughed. Though it was all about him, Jim hardly thought about Spock that evening and went to sleep happy.


End file.
